


Worth It

by crochetaway



Series: Drabbles and OneShots [167]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Hermione Granger, F/M, Professor Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27678542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/pseuds/crochetaway
Summary: Hermione is sent up to Hogwarts to investigate instances of Dark Magic. But digging to the bottom of this mystery isn't the only thing she finds up there.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Drabbles and OneShots [167]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/627092
Comments: 10
Kudos: 105
Collections: DFW Tropes Fest: Double Trouble





	Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: This was written for the Dramione Fanfiction Writers Trope Fest! I took two tropes, because I'm a daring Gryffindor and honestly, mine couldn't have gone better together. My tropes were: Auror & Professor, and Single-Dad Draco!**
> 
> **Thanks to Fae Orabel for beta'ing this, especially since I got it to her last minute because this turned into a bigger beast than I anticipated.**
> 
> **If you love this (or hate it) let me know about it in a review! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff or Facebook at Shan Crochetaway. Enjoy!**

* * *

“‘Mione, have a seat,” Harry offered the moment she walked into his office. He only ever called her in when he had a case for her. So, she sat, her brio and notepad at the ready.

“What’s the case?” she asked.

Harry grimaced. “How do you feel about spending some time in Scotland?”

“Hogwarts?” Hermione guessed, tilting her head to the side. “What happened that the teachers can’t handle?”

“McGonagall Floo called me because she was concerned that it might be some sort of manifestation of Tom Riddle,” Harry said with a sigh. “I haven’t been, obviously, but it needs to be checked out. And…”

“I’m intimately familiar with Tom Riddle’s magic. Yeah, I get it. Alright. Who am I meeting at Hogwarts? And what specifically happened?”

“A surge of Dark Magic was detected in the dungeons. You’ll be meeting with McGonagall and the Head of Slytherin, who also happens to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—”

“Malfoy?” Hermione asked, looking up from her notes.

Harry nodded. “The one and only. McGonagall wouldn’t have hired him if he wasn’t a decent professor.”

Hermione snorted. “I’m aware, Harry. I don’t have kids, remember? It’s not on me to keep up with the professors at Hogwarts.”

“Right, well, you know how much Albus likes Scorpius. Malfoy can’t be all bad to have raised a son like that on his own.”

“‘Course not, I’m sure he’s a decent dad and professor. You really don’t have to convince me, Harry. I’ll go up and check it out, though it seems like a prank to me.” Hermione flipped her notebook closed. “Anything else you can tell me?”

Harry shook his head. “That’s all McGonagall gave me. She’s expecting you at three in the afternoon today for tea.”

* * *

It was quite a bit colder in Scotland than it had been in London, and Hermione shivered when she arrived at Hogwart’s gates. They opened at her touch, signalling that the Headmistress—who controlled them—had invited her to the castle for the day. Hagrid waved from his pumpkin patch, and Fang gave her a greeting bark as she walked by. The castle doors also opened for her, and she took a deep breath in the Entrance Hall. It didn’t matter how many years it had been since Hermione was a student at Hogwarts; it always smelled like home to her. The dampness of the stone, mixed with the smell of spellfire, chalk, parchment, and ink. It was such a uniquely Hogwarts smell that she involuntarily grinned as she climbed the stairs for the Headmistress’s office.

For a few years after the war, Hermione had taken to having tea with Headmistress McGonagall a few times a year, but eventually, she had gotten busier with her career, and they had stopped. She found she was looking forward to seeing her old head of house again.

“Aunt ‘Mione?” she heard from behind her as she was climbing the stairs to the third floor. She turned around to see Jamie staring at her disbelievingly. “I thought it was you!” he said and ran up the stairs, wrapping his arms around her in a huge hug. One thing she loved about Jamie was his unflinching way of showing affection, despite being a fifteen-year-old boy.

“Hi, Jamie. Shouldn’t you be in class?” Hermione asked, holding him out from her for a moment.

With a jolt, the staircase began to move from its third-floor perch.

“Bugger,” Hermione muttered. “I’m going to have to wait until it goes back. Guess I’m along for the whole ride.”

“What are you going to the Headmistress’s office for?” Jamie asked.

“Don’t think I forgot you’re supposed to be in class,” Hermione told him. “Which is it you’re skipping?”

“It’s just Herbology, a total bore,” Jamie said. “Now tell me why you’re here.”

“I’m here to meet with the Headmistress and Professor Malfoy. Perhaps I need to also have a discussion with Professor Longbottom about your attendance,” Hermione scolded lightly.

“Oh, would you? You’ll give a great excuse,” Jamie said, beaming at her. He was taller than her these days, and Hermione hated that she had to look up at him.

“I was thinking more along the lines of an extra essay or three,” Hermione said.

“Fine, I’ll get to class. It was good to see you, Aunt ‘Mione,” Jamie said, giving her another hug and loping off down the stairs toward the entrance hall. She laughed as the staircase moved again, and he just barely had time to hop off of it before it moved from that landing.

Finally, it docked at the third-floor corridor once more, and Hermione hurried up it. She was going to be late now.

The gargoyle jumped aside at her approach, and she hurried up the stairs to the office proper.

“Apologies for being late,” she announced as she entered the office. “The staircase changed on me, halfway up. Forgot about those,” she said with a bit of a laugh.

“No worries at all,” Headmistress McGonagall said, standing from her seat behind the desk. “It’s good to see you, Hermione. Please have a seat. I was just asking for tea.”

“That would be lovely,” Hermione said. “It’s blustery out there today. Professor Malfoy.” She nodded to the other person in the room.

“Auror Granger,” he replied with a bit of a smile at the corner of his lips.

Once tea was poured and the niceties were out of the way, Hermione got down to business.

“What sort of Dark Magic are we talking about here? Harry didn’t give me anything specific.” She had pulled out her brio and notepad again.

“We’re not sure,” McGonagall said. “It hit all of our Dark Detectors,” she indicated the little silver mechanisms on the shelf behind her desk, “but by the time we got there, there weren’t even enough residuals left to get an accurate read on the profile.”

“Where did it originate?” Hermione asked.

Malfoy grimaced. “The Slytherin boy’s dormitory, but we aren’t sure which one exactly.”

“No wonder Harry thinks it’s Voldemort,” Hermione muttered. “But that doesn’t make sense. Unless he could have planted something that went unfound until now?”

“Perhaps,” Malfoy shrugged, “though the Slytherin dorms were saved from much of the destruction during the war, Aurors and Dark Magic experts combed the entire castle through that year after. You’d think if Voldemort had hidden something down there, it would have been found then.”

“Anything you _can_ tell me about it?” Hermione asked.

“It’s happened more than once,” Malfoy replied. “It’s why I insisted we call the Aurors in, actually. We need to find the source before someone truly gets hurt.”

* * *

“I don’t know about this,” Scorpius said to Albus as they looked through the book once more.

“I do,” Albus said. “It’s already partially worked! She’s here! And she’s meeting with your dad right now.”

“How do you know?” Scorpius asked.

“Jamie ran into her on the stairs. She told him about going to the meeting. We just need to set it off now, while she’s here. Then you’ll see.”

“If you’re sure,” Scorpius replied, still not convinced that what they were doing was going to work.

“I am,” Albus replied confidently. “Trust me, Scorp.”

Scorpius took a deep breath. He did trust Albus. They were best friends, and Albus wouldn’t lead him astray. If he thought this would work, then it would work. “Alright, let’s do it.”

“Excellent,” Albus said with a grin. He bent over the book again and whispered the spell beneath his breath, practising the wand movement with his hand. “Ready. You?”

“Yeah,” Scorpius replied. They shared a grin, and then both pointed their wands at the opposite wall. They each invoked the spell, it lit the room up in a bright green glow, then shattered against the opposite wall, not even leaving a mark.

Albus picked up the book, and they both walked quickly, but casually out to the common room.

* * *

“Professor Malfoy can take you down—” the Headmistress cut herself off as the silver instruments behind her started whistling and singing like crazy.

“It’s happening right now, come on Granger,” Malfoy stood up and grabbed her arm, walking quickly out of the office, taking the stairs two at a time.

“I can walk on my own,” Hermione hissed once they were out in the corridor. “Come on, Malfoy,” she said as she pulled her arm from his grasp and took off at a run toward the dungeons. She hoped Malfoy could keep up. Her jogging routine had served her time and time again as an Auror.

She sprinted for the stairs, taking them as quickly as she could, hopping across a small gap when the stair had begun to move before she was at the landing.

By the time they hit the stairs going down into the dungeons, she was pleased to see that Malfoy was able to keep up, though he seemed a mite out of breath. She couldn’t help smirking at that.

“Password?” she said as soon as they were in front of the blank wall that hid the Slytherin common room.

“Adder,” Malfoy gasped. The wall moved, and Hermione darted inside with a detection spell already in place, leading her to where someone had cast the Dark Magic.

Behind her, she could hear Malfoy assuring members of his house that everything was alright and that there was no reason to worry. She hurried down the stairs of the right-hand corridor and stopped in front of the door marked for third years. She knocked, and not getting an answer, she opened it to find a completely empty room. Nothing looked amiss, except for the fact that it was decidedly a boys dormitory in that there was dirty laundry in various piles and textbooks and spare bits of parchment littering every surface.

“It definitely came from this room,” Hermione said as she spun in a slow circle. “But it’s unclear where it originated or what it hit.”

Malfoy frowned. “This is Scorp’s dormitory. Are you sure this is where it originated?” He too looked around at the mess and shook his head. A flick of his wand had all of the textbooks straightened and put on the appropriate desk. Clothes went into the dirty clothes shoot for the house-elves.

Hermione scowled at him. “Can you try and control your dad instinct for one minute? I really wish you hadn’t cast anything in here.” She cast her diagnostic again, and nothing. Malfoy’s tidying spell had obliterated the faint trace of Dark Magic.

“Shite, I didn’t even think of that,” Malfoy groaned “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me.”

“Must be why you’re the professor and I’m the Auror,” Hermione replied snippily. “Well, there’s nothing else to be learned here. Let’s go back to the Headmistress’s office. I have some ideas I'd like to discuss with both of you.”

* * *

“Merlin, Al, you weren’t kidding,” Scorpius said, awe in his voice as he watched Auror Granger leave the common room with his dad. “She came flying in here. It was bloody amazing.”

“Told you,” Albus replied preening. “She’d be perfect for your dad. We just need to keep forcing them together.”

“Alright, yeah, I’m in,” Scorpius said with a decisive nod. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Albus when he stated that Auror Granger was perfect before his dad, but he had only ever really seen her from a distance. Seeing her in action, her quick thinking and bravery, it was awe-inspiring. And he wasn’t stupid; he’d caught his dad watching her in a way that made him think he liked her. It wasn’t a look he had seen on his dad’s face in years, not since his mum died.

“What next then?” Albus asked as they flipped through the book.

“This one,” Scorpius replied, pointing his finger at a spot in the book. “But not in the Slytherin dorms. It’ll be too easy to figure it out if we keep doing it here. We need to shake things up to keep her at Hogwarts as long as possible.

“Now you’re getting into it,” Albus said with a slow smirk. “This is going to be fun.”

* * *

Hermione was trying to keep her face blank as Malfoy huffed beside her up the stairs back to the headmistress’s office.

“Alright there?” she asked him when he leaned heavily against the stairs as they waited for the final connection to the third floor corridor.

“Just fine, Granger,” Malfoy huffed, keeping his eyes closed as he tried to calm his breathing.

“Just checking,” Hermione said, unable to hide the smile when he glared at her. “Seems someone hasn’t kept in Quidditch shape. Better lay off the heavy Hogwarts carbs, Professor Malfoy.”

“Hilarious, Granger. I keep in shape fine. Just not used to all the running up and downstairs,” he replied.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Hermione said as the stairs shifted into place at last and she took the last couple to the landing. “But it’s clear that I’ll be running circles around you while I’m here.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder and headed toward the headmistress’s office.

Malfoy caught up with her, just before she reached the gargoyle. He grabbed above her elbow to get her to stop. She turned to look at him with a frown. “Need something?”

He pushed her backward until she hit the wall behind her. Her heart raced in her chest at the look in his eyes. Like he would give anything to get her alone.

“I’ll keep up just fine,” Malfoy whispered into her ear. Goose flesh broke out along her arms at his words. He was close enough that his stubble grazed her cheek and she closed her eyes at the pure, raw scent of him. It was all man and, Merlin, it had been so long since she had been with a man, she almost couldn’t believe the way her body was responding to him.

“Guess you’ll have to prove it,” Hermione responded, her voice breathier than she intended. Malfoy’s low chuckle did funny things to her stomach, and an ache began in her belly when he trailed his fingers along her waist.

“Give me a time and place, and I’ll gladly prove my stamina to you,” he replied, his lips on the soft skin just below her ear. Hermione found herself almost leaning into him when someone cleared their throat behind him.

Malfoy gave her one last smirk before pulling away to address Headmistress McGonagall. “We were just on our way to your office.”

“I can see that,” she said with a lifted eyebrow. The gargoyle jumped to one side, and the three of them began climbing the stairs up to her office. Hermione willed the flush out of her cheeks at her interlude with Malfoy. She wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but she had a sudden desire to find out and perhaps get herself under him. It seemed he was amenable to that suggestion and well… despite his slight inability to keep up with her, Malfoy was quite fit. Something her brain had recognised immediately upon seeing him again.

“Did you find anything?” McGonagall asked once they were all seated again.

Hermione shook her head. “No, however, I do have some ideas. Has the magic always come from the third year dormitory?”

“We haven’t ever been able to isolate it further than the general areas of the boy’s dormitory,” Malfoy replied.

“I see. Well, I wasn’t able to get a read on the magic,” she shot Malfoy a reproving look and addressed the headmistress again, “but it’s clear it’s not an isolated event. I think it would make sense for me to take up a room at the Three Broomsticks to continue my investigation. I’ll let Harry know I’ll be up here for a couple of days. I do have a few leads I want to track down.”

“Och, we’ll make up a spare room for you here, Auror Granger,” McGonagall said. “If it does happen again, we’ll need to make sure you’re close enough to actually perform an investigation. I believe there is an old apprentice quarters off of the Head of Slytherin’s rooms, right Professor Malfoy?”

“Yes, Headmistress. I can have the house-elves make them ready for Granger.”

“Good, consider it done. We’ll have a place put at the head table for you for meals as well. Hopefully, your stay won’t be too unbearable for you.” McGonagall gave her a look that hinted at something Hermione didn’t want to interpret.

Whatever was going on between her and Malfoy, well, as enjoyable as she found it, she needed to focus on her job first.

“Thank you for your generosity,” Hermione said to McGonagall with a smile. “Hogwarts has always felt like home. I’m sure it will be fine.”

“Excellent, well Professor Malfoy can show you to where the quarters are. And here,” she pulled one of the Dark Magic detectors from her shelf. “I’m sure you have some of your own, but these are all specifically calibrated to Hogwarts.”

“I’m sure it’ll work better than my Ministry issued ones, thank you,” Hermione took the little silver machine in her hands. It was three balls, hovering over a flat silver disk. When idle, the balls spun slowly in orbit around the centre, but when it detected Dark Magic, they would emit a sound and fling out faster and wider around the disk.

“I’ll walk you,” Malfoy said. He stood, nodding to the Headmistress before guiding Hermione out of the office, his hand on the small of her back.

“I do know my way around Hogwarts,” Hermione reminded him lightly.

“Ah, but do you know where the apprentice quarters are near the Head of Slytherin’s quarters?” Malfoy asked, mimicking the Headmistress.

“Considering you haven’t had time to even get a house-elf to them to clean them up, it’s a moot point, isn’t it? I have a small investigation I would like to do before heading down there. How about I meet you in front of the potions classroom in an hour?” Hermione suggested.

Malfoy shook his head. “Whatever investigating you’re doing, I want to be there too.”

“Don't you have classes to teach?” Hermione asked.

Malfoy shrugged. “I have a third-year apprentice this year. She can handle my classes. It’s more important that we find the source of this Dark Magic.”

Hermione pursed her lips and looked him up and down. “Alright,” she agreed. It would definitely make traipsing through the Chamber of Secrets less creepy if she had backup. Not that she was going to tell Malfoy where they were going. Hermione buried her smirk under a business-like mien and led him to the girl’s bathroom on the first floor.

“I’ll wait out here,” Malfoy said, standing against the wall.

“No, you don’t,” Hermione shook her head and grabbed his hand, pulling him in after her.

“Granger, it’s certainly not appropriate for—”

“Anyone in here?” Hermione asked, cutting him off. Nobody answered, and a quick look told her all of the stall doors were open, with nobody hiding behind them.

“What are we doing in here?” Malfoy asked slowly following as Hermione walked toward the third sink from the left. The only one that had snakes worked into its faucet and piping.

“You’ll see,” Hermione said. She pulled out a Muggle recording device, like the kind reporters liked to use and hit play.

A loud hissing sound filled the room, echoing off of the walls, and Malfoy gasped, looking around to find where it came from. He missed the way the sink shrank back on itself and opened up into a tunnel.

“After you,” Hermione said, with a gesture.

“Where exactly will that take us?” Malfoy asked. He lit his wand and peered down the hole, though it didn’t illuminate much.

“To a secret chamber under the school,” Hermione said, “one might even call it the Chamber of Secrets.”

“You three really did get up to too much, didn’t you?” Malfoy muttered. He awkwardly climbed into the tunnel and sent one last scowl her way before sliding down. Hermione gave him a few minutes. She didn’t want to land in a heap on top of him. Then she too slid down the tunnel.

The air was stale and stank of decaying animals and earth. She used a spell to slow her descent and managed to land on her feet just as the pile of rubble at the bottom came into view.

“What happened?” Malfoy asked, looking around at all the destruction.

“Well, I wasn’t here for it, but Harry and Ron had a bit of trouble with Lockhart down here, so that was some of it. Then when Ron and I came down during the Battle of Hogwarts, there was more rubble. I’m guessing that part of the foundations crumbled when the giants entered the battle.” She sent out a _Lumos Maxima,_ and every torch in the antechamber lit up, which wasn’t that many as most of the columns were fallen.

“We had the whole place shored up after the battle. Harry, Ron, and I came in to do it ourselves. We considered sealing it permanently, but it is part of the school. Besides, if any other enterprising young parselmouth comes along, won’t this be a neat find for them,” Hermione said with a grin.

“A neat find? Granger, are you mental? It’s a dump down here! And looks bloody dangerous to boot! Why is the ground all wet?”

“It’s a school for magic, Malfoy. If any student does find it, they’ll be fine. And we think that when it rains, it floods. It doesn’t have some of the same protections that the dungeons have. Come on; this is just the antechamber.”

“Wait, there’s more?” Malfoy asked as he followed her. She had to clamber over a huge pile of rubble blocking the doorway to the larger chamber.

“You didn’t think this dinky little place was what Salazar Slytherin called the Chamber of Secrets did you?” Hermione asked as she jumped down from the other side of the pile. Another _Lumos Maxima_ and this time the torches that lined the columns all lit up. The chamber itself was in much better shape than the antechamber.

The floor here was still wet, and the pools of water that lined the outsides of the columns shimmered beneath the magical light of the torches. The massive statue of Salazar was still there with its wide mouth open. The stink wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been during the Final Battle. The basilisk had another twenty years of decaying time and was now just bones, with a bit of cartilage still attached.

“Holy, mother of Merlin, is that…” Malfoy trailed off as he approached the basilisk skeleton. “I’ve never even seen one of these.”

“It’s the same one Harry killed in second year,” Hermione said off-handedly as she approached the statue of Slytherin.

“I thought that was just a rumour,” Malfoy said, sounding in awe. “Circe, Potter’s got balls, hasn’t he?”

“He would have died, actually, if Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix, hadn’t saved him. He stabbed it with Gryffindor’s sword, and a basilisk fang nicked his arm, pretty badly.”

Malfoy let a low whistle loose as he continued to examine the skeleton. “Nobody harvested the supplies? That’s a shame.”

“We took the fangs in the final battle to kill Horcruxes with,” Hermione said, “but it was pretty decomposed by then. I’m not sure why Dumbledore or Snape never bothered with harvesting it. Dumbledore probably didn’t care, and perhaps Snape didn’t know? I’m not sure.” They entered the mouth of the statue, her wand out, ready, for what she wasn’t sure.

“Uh, Granger?” Malfoy said, hurrying to catch up with her. “Where does this go?”

“According to Harry, this is where the snake emerged from in second year. So I’m guessing the lair, but I’m not sure anyone has been back here since…” she trailed off thinking about it, “Merlin, probably not since Riddle himself was in school, so almost seventy-five years.”

“That’s not in the least bit creepy,” Malfoy replied. It was dark there, even with their wands lit. She could feel Malfoy’s breath on the top of her head, so he must have been close.

“Boo,” she shouted, whirling around to face him, holding her hands up.

“Fucking Salazar, Granger,” Malfoy shouted, jumping backwards. Hermione just caught the look on his face before he stepped out of her wand light, and she threw her head back in laughter.

“Oh, you should have seen your face,” she said, chuckling to herself and turning back around toward where the basilisk’s nest must be. “Priceless. Wish I would have had a camera.”

“Hilarious, Granger,” Malfoy sneered, “scaring a bloke in the dark, very mature.”

“I didn’t say it was mature,” Hermione replied with a shrug, moving forward once more. “I said it was funny.”

He grumbled something under his breath that Hermione couldn’t quite hear.

Finally, the tunnel they were in opened up and she could see a large space. She cast another _Lumos Maxima_ and a large sphere of light left her wand to hover high above their heads, illuminating the nest. Whatever Hermione was hoping to find, she couldn’t help feeling a mite disappointed. It was just an empty circular room with the leavings of animal carcasses and shed snakeskin. There were no off-shoots, no other passageways going deeper.

“I was hoping there would be a secret library or something,” Malfoy said glumly looking around.

“Same,” Hermione admitted with a bit of a laugh. “Still, we should check to make sure we aren’t missing anything. I’m assuming you know the standard set of detection spells?”

“Of course,” he responded with a haughty sniff.

They set to work, combing every inch of the snake’s lair and then beyond in the chamber itself, even in the antechamber, but they couldn’t find anything more than was there.

“Well, it was a long-shot anyway. I assumed if Riddle had hidden something in the school, this would be the likely spot. We’ll have to do the same with the Slytherin common room and dormitory if we can. Perhaps this weekend during the Quidditch match?”

“It’s a date,” Malfoy said with a little grin. Hermione rolled her eyes, and they made their way back out to the antechamber, climbing over the rubble as swiftly as they could.

Hermione transfigured the chute they had travelled down into a set of stairs, and the two of them made their way back up into the castle proper.

“Well, while that was interesting, it certainly didn’t give us any clues,” Malfoy replied, leading her down toward the dungeons.

“No, but it also means we can cross it off our list. Whatever is creating the Dark Magic, it’s either in the Slytherin common room and dormitories, or it’s one of your snakes doing it for some unknown purpose.”

“Did you just call a bunch of children snakes?” Malfoy asked, his voice on the edge of irritation.

“I’ll remind you that one of my nephews is a Slytherin. Rather proud of that little bugger too,” Hermione responded. “You’ve gone soft in your old age.”

Malfoy whirled to her, backing her into a wall, which gave way into a small alcove. It was dark in the niche, but the way Malfoy’s body felt against hers, she found she didn’t mind. “I’ll show you soft,” he growled against her cheek as his hands pinned hers to the wall, his body was rock hard against her.

“Not here you won’t,” Hermione replied, her voice huskier than she was used to. “We’re in full view of anyone walking by.”

“We aren’t,” Malfoy replied, she could feel his lips curve into a smirk against her cheek as he dragged his nose along her ear. “It’s a false wall. Nobody can see us in here unless they also know about the false wall. You’d have to be quiet, though, they could certainly hear if you turned out to be a screamer.” His chuckle was low and did things to Hermione’s belly that felt delicious. “Who am I kidding, you’re definitely a screamer.” He bit the lobe of her ear and Hermione couldn’t have stopped the gasp followed by a moan that emerged from her mouth if she wanted to. She bucked her body against his, cursing the fact that he had her wrists pinned and she couldn’t draw him to her.

“Malfoy,” she whined when he pulled away. In the dim light coming through the false wall, his eyes glittered at her. He backed out of the alcove, and Hermione took a deep breath to ground herself before following him.

He seemed to have her number, and she found she wasn’t even too upset about that. It had been a long time since she had felt butterflies in her stomach over a wizard. Her last few boyfriends had been nice, kind men, but none of them raised her heart rate as Malfoy did. None of them created an ache in her core that begged to be filled. And none of them had ever backed her into a wall like he was intent of fucking her right then and there. It was heady.

“Still want to stay in the apprentice’s quarters?” Malfoy said a moment later, having opened the door to the tiny room. It had a single bed, a small wardrobe, and a desk and that was it. It also looked like it hadn’t been used in a few centuries.

“I can’t very well stay in yours,” she hissed. She flicked her wand and most of the worst bit of dust disappeared.

“Sure you can,” Malfoy said, sliding his arm around her waist. “See that door,” he shuffled behind her, pressing his hips against her bum. She could feel his cock. It was begging for attention, and instead of stepping away and being professional, she ground her arse against him. His grip on her waist tightened, and he moved her mass of hair off of one shoulder. “It leads to the Head of Slytherin’s rooms,” Malfoy murmured against the side of her neck. “Apprentices and Masters used to have very different sorts of relationships. It made for easy access.”

Hermione knew all about the sorts of relationships that Apprentices were coerced into with their Masters.

“You haven’t formed such a relationship with your current apprentice?” Hermione asked. She was really asking what his attachments were, and he knew it. His arm tightened further around her middle.

“Of course not,” he snapped, whirling her around to face him. “She’s practically a child. I’ve had my sights set on someone else.” The look on his face told her exactly who it was he had his sights set on.

“Well, in that case, I think I’ll take these rooms. Perhaps we can have a drink in your sitting room while the house-elves clean and put on new bedding?”

“Go on through, I’ll take care of it,” Malfoy said, backing her through the room and opening the door that connected the Apprentice room with the rest of the quarters. Hermione nodded her thanks and turned on her heel, stalking through his space.

She needed a respite from him anyway. She had to remind herself she was here for a purpose and that purpose was not to get into Malfoy’s trousers but to figure out where the Dark Magic was coming from and put a stop to it.

His sitting-room was more library than anything. Every wall was covered in floor to ceiling bookshelves and every shelf filled to the brim with books. Hermione settled herself onto a soft, brown leather sofa, and, having spied the tea service in the corner, she Summoned it over and began preparing tea for the two of them. She had said a drink, and despite her insinuation, it was only the middle of the afternoon.

A few moments later, Malfoy came in from the corridor and smiled at her. “You look good in my sitting-room,” he said as he joined her on the sofa.

She snorted and handed him a cup of tea. “When did you become such an incorrigible flirt?”

“I’ve always been a flirt,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe you just never noticed until now.”

“Perhaps,” she said, smiling into her teacup.

* * *

They were halfway through dinner when the Dark Detector that Hermione carried around with her all day went off. Every eye in the Great Hall turned her way. She stood quickly, patting her lips with her napkin.

“Excuse me, Headmistress,” she said to McGonagall with whom she’d been speaking. McGonagall waved her off, and she dashed out of the hall, the Dark detector held out in her hand, its signal getting stronger as she raced down the stairs to the dungeon. Feet slapped behind her, but she didn’t spare a glance, assuming it was Malfoy.

“Slytherin common room again,” Malfoy muttered behind her and panted out the password. They rushed inside to find it completely empty. The detector rang its loudest in the common room, meaning that whatever or whoever had set off the Dark Magic had done it here.

Hermione had her wand out in a flash and ran a full bevvy of identification and diagnostic spells. But they turned up nothing more than the name of the obscure spell. There was no trace.

She shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense. There should be a trace of the latent magic if it were embedded into an object and being set off.”

“What does that mean that there’s not?” Malfoy asked with a frown.

“It means that someone is doing this. That this isn’t something leftover from Riddle or any of his cronies, that one of your snakes is purposely setting off Dark Magic.” Hermione didn’t like the thought any more than Malfoy did, judging by the grimace on his face, but there was no other explanation.

“Bloody hell,” he grumbled to himself and led the way back out of the common room. They returned to his quarters instead of the Great Hall.

“Any idea which of them might be responsible?” she asked.

“Of course not,” he grumbled, throwing a hand over his eyes. “If I knew that, I would have told you already. I feel like such a bloody failure.”

“You aren’t a failure,” Hermione said, sitting down next to him on the couch. She patted his shoulder. “You aren’t responsible for other people’s actions. You know that.”

“I know, but I have a lot to live up to. The last Head of Slytherin…” he trailed off.

“You’re comparing yourself to Snape now?” Hermione asked with a laugh. “For one, the two of you are nothing alike, and for two, as good as he might have been as a Head of House, he really lacked in some other very key areas.”

Malfoy sighed and turned to look at her. “I know you’re right, but my heart is still telling me I’ve fucked up somehow.”

“Maybe we need to take your mind off your heart then?” Hermione said, her gaze dipping down to where his lips were.

They turned up at the corners. “Oh? And how do you think you’ll manage to do that?”

“I have some ideas,” she murmured as she turned and straddled him—a leg on either side of his. His eyes went wide, but his hands were quick to grasp her hips and yank her as far forward as she could go.

“I’m liking where this is going already,” he murmured to her.

“Thought you might,” she whispered as she lowered her head and pressed her lips to his. His were so soft on hers. He ran a hand up her back, pulling her as close to him as he could get, his hand fisted in her hair.

He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue along her lips and alongside her own as he explored her mouth. She couldn’t help the groan that slipped through as his other hand slid down and palmed her arse.

“What are you doing to me, Granger,” he murmured against her lips once they broke the kiss. She gazed down at his ice-blue eyes, trying to figure out the same thing.

“I—” she gasped when he flipped them on the sofa so that she was lying flat on her back and he was on top of her. His cock was hard and insistent against her core, and he rolled his hips against hers. “Malfoy,” she groaned.

“Draco,” he murmured into her ear, trailing a hand down her body. His fingers plucked at her nipple through her robes and bra.

“Draco,” she gasped when he pinched her. Her back arched, it felt so bloody good, his hands on her body.

A moment later, they were tugging at each other's clothes, desperate to feel skin against skin. Hermione luxuriated in the way his hands felt against her skin. They were so big and warm, so different from her own. He moaned as her hands grasped his shoulders, and she groaned as he trailed his kisses down her body.

When they finally came together, she was panting with need. Draco had dropped his head to her shoulder, whispering the filthiest things in her ear. Things like, “So fucking tight. I love how wet you are for me. Body feels perfect against mine.” And her favourite, the one that shot a thrill through her and made her want things she was sure he didn’t mean, “Feels like you were made for me.”

She cried out through her orgasm, proving Draco right that she was a screamer when he dragged his fingers across her clit in just the way she needed. He buried his cock so deep inside of her, giving her what she needed to clamp down on to truly enjoy her climax. Then he bit her shoulder, grunting harshly as his seed splashed inside her.

Afterwards, they lay on the couch, cuddled together, and Draco’s breath was so even that for a moment she worried he had fallen asleep.

“Granger,” he murmured, pressing a kiss against her neck, before sitting up and pulling her with him. “Too old to be doing this on the sofa,” he complained.

Hermione laughed and stood. “Then let’s go find a bed.”

* * *

“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” Scorpius hissed to Albus as they huddled together in the common room.

“They aren’t on to us,” Albus replied, shaking his head. “It’ll be fine.”

Scorpius gritted his teeth, not quite sure he believed his friend, but unwilling to say more. Albus was his best friend, and Scorpius would always have his back, even if he thought what Albus was doing was stupid. Like right now, looking through this book on Dark Magic in full view of anyone who wandered through the common room. His dad didn’t often come into the common room, but it wasn’t totally against the norm if he did. He wasn’t sure what had him so amped up, but something was putting him on edge, and he was bloody nervous.

“I know you think that,” he said, trying not to sound argumentative, Albus was not only his best friend but his _only_ friend. He didn’t think Albus would abandon him over this, but there was always that thought in the back of his mind. That anyone Scorpius would get close to would leave—like his mum left. Not that her getting sick was anyone’s fault, or that his feelings were rational. He knew they weren’t, but he also couldn’t help the way he felt. “But I still think we should be a little discreet. Not get too cocky, you know?”

“Too cocky about what?” a deep voice said above Scorpius’s head.

 _Oh, shite,_ Scorpius thought, closing his eyes.

“What is that?” his dad asked, hurrying around the side of the sofa and pulling the book out of Albus’s hands. Albus looked shocked, looking between Scorpius and his dad.

“I think you both had better come with me,” his dad said in a voice that brooked no argument. Scorpius nodded and stood.

“We can explain, Professor Malfoy,” Albus said instantly, though he too stood.

“You can explain in my office,” his dad said tightly. “Let’s go.”

His dad was gripping the book so tightly that his knuckles were white as he led them out of the common room and down the corridor to his office. “Sit,” he snapped, pointing at the chairs in front of his desk. “Stay,” he said, just before he whirled out of the room and the door shut behind him.

“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” Albus said quietly, looking at his hands.

“Yes, we’re in trouble, you idiot! I told you not to have that bloody book in the common room. I can’t believe he caught us. Now they’re never going to get together.”

A moment later, the door opened again, and his dad walked in alone. “I’ve asked Auror Granger to join us once she’s free. Explain. Now,” he demanded as he slammed the book on the desk.

“It’s my fault, Professor Malfoy,” Albus said. “Please don’t punish Scorpius over this.”

“Tell me how you came into possession of this particular book,” his dad crossed his arms over his chest, looking angrier than Scorpius had ever seen him.

“I snuck it out of the Restricted Section,” Albus whispered, not meeting Draco’s eyes. Scorpius took a deep breath, staring down at his lap, trying to come up with the courage to defend what Albus had done.

“You wanted to see me?” a new voice said, breezing into the office from the door that led to his dad’s quarters. Scorpius frowned when Auror Granger leaned down and kissed his dad on the cheek.

“Wait, did it work? Are you guys?” Albus made a gesture between the two adults. “We did it, Scorp!”

“Oh, my god!” Scorpios said as he realised what it meant that Auror Granger had come out of his dad’s rooms. “We did it, Al!”

“Explain,” his dad said again, sounding angrier than before.

Auror Granger picked up the book on the desk, leafing through it, her expression growing darker as she did.

“Albus thought that you and Auror Granger would be perfect together, so he concocted a plan to get her up to Hogwarts,” Scorpius said in a rush.

“So all the Dark Magic flying around lately was you two?” Auror Granger asked, incredulously. At Albus and Scorpius’s nods, she went on, “Do you have any idea how bloody dangerous that was?”

“We were careful that nobody else was around when we were casting, Aunt Hermione,” Albus said.

“It’s you two I’m worried about,” she snapped. “Don’t you have any idea what that kind of Dark Magic can do to you? To your souls? To your magic? Dark calls to Dark! You could have turned yourselves permanently Dark, unable to ever cast a Patronus! Dark Magic corrupts, it’s not just dangerous because of the outcome of the spells. It’s dangerous because it can corrupt your mind, your body, your spirit. Merlin, don’t you teach them this stuff?” Auror Granger asked his dad.

“Of course, I do,” Draco snapped. “It’s just usually a fourth year lesson. But apparently, I’ll need to rework my plans and put it in third years if we’re going to have stunts like this.” He turned his glare on Scorpius. “I thought you knew better than this,” he said, the disappointment heavy in his voice.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I just, I liked the idea of you not being alone anymore. I knew it was stupid; I should have put a stop to it.” Scorpus hung his head in shame.

“No, it’s my fault, Albus said. “Don’t punish Scorp over this. I should be the one to take the blame.”

“You will, don’t worry,” Auror Granger said. “I was sent here by your father. I’m going to have to tell him about this.”

“Aw, come on, Aunt Hermione—”

“Don’t whine at me,” she snapped. “You have no idea the amount of trouble you could be in. They both need to get a full workup done by Pomfrey to make sure they haven’t damaged their cores beyond repair.”

“And detention for a month,” Scorpius’s dad said. “And probably a permanent ban from the Restricted Section. Perhaps a ban from the library entirely for the rest of the year.”

Scorpius felt sick to his stomach. He had no idea that playing with Dark Magic was so serious. He hated disappointing his father. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

Draco nodded but didn’t say anything his lips pressed tightly together.

“It did work, though, right? You two are together?” Albus asked, hopefully.

“You just worry about yourself, Albus Severus Potter,” Auror Granger snapped.

* * *

_Six Months Later_

“I knew it worked,” Albus told Scorpius, pointing out where his dad and Auror Granger were standing. They were all at the Burrow for a summer picnic, and Scorpius had to admit, the way his dad’s hand settled on Auror Granger’s lower back did look much more friendly than common courtesy. It was confirmed when she threw her head back and laughed at something his dad had said. Then she leaned up on her toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, which he then chased when she went back onto her heels.

“Well, was all the detention and punishment worth it, though?” Scorpius asked, somewhat sullenly. This was the only fun thing he’d been allowed to do all summer so far.

“To see Aunt Hermione looking so happy? Definitely,” Albus confirmed. “Besides, we turned out fine.”

Scorpius scowled. “This time. No more Dark Magic, though. Ever.”

“Deal,” Albus said with a grin. Scorpius returned it. Happy to see his friend for the first time in a month. Even happier to see that despite it all, Albus was right. It was really good to see his dad looking so bloody happy.

**_~Fin~_ **


End file.
